Poison Tree
by quote intangible
Summary: He had his mother's eyes, and as long as Ozai can pretend those pleading eyes staring fearfully at him are Ursa's, he can pretend that everything he's done to his son isn't wrong. Oneshot. Very dark story. Warning: Rape of a minor, yaoi, incest


**Disclaimer: I do not own Firelord Ozai, his wife, Zuko or Azula. They belong to Nickelodeon, i think. And the title of the story belongs to William Blake. **

**Title: Poison Tree**

**By: 'Quote' Intangible  
**

**WARNING: Rape, of a minor and yaoi. If either subject upsets you, then do not read this story. It is slightly graphic, and twisted and rated M for a reason.  
**

With a slow, tender kiss, Ozai pushed the slightly resisting body onto the bed. His large hands pinned the much smaller wrists as his lips ravished the body below him.

He was hard, impossibly so, in a way he had not experienced in years.

The body below him squirmed and round golden eyes stared at him desperate, pleadingly. _Wanting, _he told himself, _she wants me. _

Those eyes, those deep golden eyes, those were Ursa's eyes and if all he saw were those eyes, then everything would be fine.

Her eyes haunted him.

He tied their wrists to the bed and let his hands roam over flustered flesh, ghosting over pale thighs. _She wants this…_

He kissed the almost familiar lips, let his hand glide through the almost familiar hair.

Golden eyes shifted anxiously back and forth as hands tugged at the restraints. A faint whisper escaped from the lips below him… "No, please don't."

But all Ozai heard was 'yes, my love.'

Ozai gently separated the pale legs before him and forced his erection into the small body beneath him.

It was hot and impossibly tight and he closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught of heat and the pleasure it brought.

It was _almost_ familiar.

His harsh panting echoed through the empty room and hung in the air in a frail attempt to smother out the cries.

He shook his head…s_he wants this. This is what she would want._

After a few controlled breaths, he found himself moving, thrusting into the pale body, his movements rhythmic, each thrust becoming easier.

Golden eyes welled with tears, but Ozai did not notice, or if he did he ignored it. It was too late, he couldn't shatter the illusion now.

_She wants me. _

There was a loud sound in the background and a teasing trickle on his thigh, but the Firelord denied such feelings and focused on the heat wrapped around him.

He felt the way the pale legs felt under his hands, and he felt the soft lips pressed almost violently against his.

His thrusts became erratic and his release came blinding white and explosive. But it was not satisfying and it did not fill the hole left behind.

The loud sound he tried to ignore was now a chocked sob from the body below him, the screaming abated after the orgasm died down and the burning pain was replaced with a throbbing ache.

Ozai pulled away from the body that no longer resisted him and saw only red: a trickle down his thigh, a small pool on his sheets…

Another chocked sob caught his attention and he finally dared to look down at the body below him.

Bruised lips trembled in fear beneath his touch, sharp, dark bruises blossomed across their right cheek and hips. Pale hands gripped the restraints…

_She never wanted this…_

…and Zuko's dark, golden eyes stared at him accusingly, fearfully.

He pulled out, a whimper escaping Zuko's lips.

Ozai left him there, unable to turn back, because if he saw the battered body of his son, then he would know it was not Ursa. It would not be her golden eyes looking at him lovingly.

Those dark, golden eyes haunted him.

And in just two weeks time he would challenge his child to an Agni Kai, because he could not look at those eyes that were almost familiar, almost Ursa's. He would scar the face that had no right to look so much like his wife's and he would banish the prince he could not look at without wanting to touch, without wanting to remember a happier time.

He was doing Zuko a favor by sending him towards an impossible goal…for his own selfish reasons.

There was also a hole though, and an aching need to touch to fill it. He _needed _Ursa, but that was like trying to touch the stars.

He began to regret sending away his son, the one with the gentle touch and eyes and face that were too much the spitting image of his mother.

He needed those eyes to haunt him, to reassure him.

But Ozai was far too proud to renounce the banishment, but he waited, for three long years he waited to see Zuko again. Secretly he hoped the boy would succeed, because he needed his eldest's child's touch so badly the ache of it burned inside of him.

He needed Ursa.

So when Azula told him Zuko killed the avatar, he did not flinch, did not think twice about it. He knew it was a lie, because Azula always lied, just like he had taught her. She deceived and schemed better than even he could. Black hearted and vicious, she was so unlike her brother, so unlike her precious mother.

He knew, he always knew Azula lied, but he needed the touch only Zuko could provide, needed a substitute filling for the hole that had only grown in Zuko's absence.

He wanted to welcome his child home, end Zuko's endless wandering and pointless suffereing…for his own selfish reasons.

Zuko was wary, always wary of him, with dark, golden eyes that shifted nervously and were almost familiar in a way he could never explain.

His heart beat fast as he saw his son for the first time in three years.

And that night, he could not keep his hands from roaming over pale legs as he forced himself on Zuko yet again and again, each time pretending the boy was not fighting him, each time pretending Zuko wanted it.

Each time, he became more distinctly aware that Zuko was not his wife, each time he became more distinctly aware that Zuko was not even a woman. The blood on his sheets piled up, the servants talked, but said nothing, and Zuko's cries became less frequent.

It filled his need less and less, but Ozai stopped caring about insignificant details like that.

_He's not Ursa, _he told himself, _he never will be. _

_She doesn't want this. _

But he was addicted to the taste of his son's flesh and he could not stop, even if he wanted to. Somewhere he'd let go of his love for Ursa and found a new, forbidden love, mapped out on the bruises and forced sex of his son's body.

Perhaps the day of the eclipse, then, was more of a blessing than anything else when Zuko finally refused to submit to his abuse.

He was proud, and yet so very, very relieved.

And yet part still begged to make Zuko stay.

Ozai would have gladly fallen to his sons hands, so he goaded him on, prodded him into staying. _End this wrong love..._

But Zuko _was _Ursa, and Ursa would never kill Ozai.

Those golden eyes, filled with bitter hate, were no longer Ursa's. They never were.

And Ozai felt so very, very disgusted and yet he was relieved.

He watched Zuko walk away, smoke from the redirected lightning still hovering before his eyes and the smell of ozone lingering on his nose. Ozai watched him leave, the words 'please, don't go' stuck on his tongue.

The Firelord watched the last piece of his dead heart walk away forever.

Dark, golden eyes continued to haunt him; always looking where they did not belong.

But Ozai, could not for the life of him, tell who those dark eyes belonged to anymore.


End file.
